A dream deferred...It's never too late for a new beginning!

Langston Hughes was one of the most prolific poets of his time. Who best knew about hard times in an oppressive society when just getting a drink of water was an issue. But A dream deferred rings true to my heart because it points out that we have so much talent within us, yet most don't truly tap into our potential.

Why is that? I believe it's because we don't see enough of us being creative in our inner circle, and sadly the ones who do "get it" are not willing to share, so we're left feeling as if we can't work towards our dreams of being "whatever". Everyone has a different template for their lives; it can be just taking a class from start to finish or learning how to meditate. No accomplishment is too small, it's about going from start to finish!

Prior to the pandemic, civil unrest and crash of the economy, people were truly in a sad place. We are taught to get more and more because consuming means acceptance right? (That wasn't meant to be answered). But what we learned is that working harder has simply taxed our physical and mental well being. We find that we don't have enough time to do much of anything else but the daily routine. This is how a dream becomes deferred family.

Listen, as a Black women who is turning 55 years old this year, I feel like my life is just getting started. In spite of everything happening, I continue to enhance my business outside of my contract position as a Healthplan Advisor. I applied for my LLC for MinistryandWellness because I want to offer those around me education on health and wellness.

I encourage each and everyone of you to not allow your dream to be deferred. The best is still in you! Read a little, meditate, stay away from negativity (as much as possible). What are your thoughts on what I'm saying? Am I on target or am I the only one just feeling like this?

Either way, I'm in your corner! It's never too late for your life. I want us to live as happy as possible until the day we close our eyes.

Stay Blessed!

Maxine Sinclair

Health and Wellness Advocate

Harlem

BY LANGSTON HUGHES

What happens to a dream deferred? Does it dry up like a raisin in the sun? Or fester like a sore— And then run? Does it stink like rotten meat? Or crust and sugar over— like a syrupy sweet? Maybe it just sags like a heavy load. Or does it explode?